


Tmy hyijylw sulq mh nipy (The Heavens Sing My Name)

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Cassandra Pentaghast's Disgusted Noises, Cassandra is So Done, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Free Marcher Culture and Customs, Free Marches (Dragon Age), Hawke Sided with Mages, Inquisitor Backstory, Mages, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Possible Slow burn, Solas Being Solas, Spellblade, Tags Are Hard, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Tieflings, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:16:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: Creed isn't quite sure how she ended up in chains, or why fate has demanded she step into the spotlight. Amid distrust, suspicion and all odds stacked high against her, she will rise up to the challenge and perhaps make a few friends along the way.





	1. Mfrvyryr (Murderer)

This sort of reception wasn’t unfamiliar, but it never made it any easier to handle. Waking up, bound heavily a blade at her throat? This wasn’t the first time for that. An angry woman stared down at her, flanked on both sides by armed guards and a woman whose attire said everything for her, an assassin most likely. The strange glow on her palm? That  _ was _ new. She had a suspicion it would have been agony were it not for a lifetime of enduring pain, it felt little more than a nuisance at the moment. 

 

“Glad you’re awake,  _ demon _ . We have questions. You  _ will _ answer.” the woman with the blade growled. 

 

Demon? That wasn’t a first either, there were plenty of people who assumed she was just that. It’s what made settling in Hasmal very difficult for a while. Marchers were fine people, sure, but no easier with trust than most others. It had taken years of proving herself to earn her place there. This wasn’t looking like she had years here, and the woman looked the unruly sort who didn’t care to get to know her to find out. 

 

With a resolved sigh, she tipped her head back, baring more of her throat to her.  _ Demon. _ She wanted a monster? Alright. 

 

“Kudd py zyml. Xe mijy lazmulq za wih.” she challenged. 

 

It didn’t matter that  _ she _ had never personally consorted with demons, that unlike most of her kind, she actually  _ believed _ in the Maker, in Andraste. The moment people heard it, they assumed the worst. Rightly so, for it  _ was _ the language native to demons. Hers was not a high form, and many had claimed it sounded quite beautiful, but few outside of her kind really bothered to learn it. The woman’s blade was cold against her skin, a sandy sort of tan that had gotten her farther than her red-skinned kin. The other woman loosely gripped her shoulder, shaking her head.

 

“Cassandra, remember, we need her. Don’t do anything rash.” she said. 

 

A voice of reason. Perhaps more influential than this one, by the way she reluctantly sheathed her blade. It had put murder off her mind, but that didn’t stop her from being rougher than needed. Her fingers dug into her shoulders, her head snapping back and forward again with the heavy shake she administered. Her skin would be bruised, but it was of little enough concern to her. 

 

“What happened at the Conclave? Everyone is dead. Divine Justinia is  _ dead _ . What did you do?” she demanded. 

 

Sure, she’d attended the Conclave. Not the only one of her kind, though most were hired on as protection, whereas she’d come out of curiosity. A desire to know what the future of Thedas was going to hold, to know whether she’d need to leave her adopted home for safer places, or if it would all be resolved. Hm. Strangely enough, the moment she tried to summon up the recollection of events, it seemed little more than a haze in her mind. It didn’t bear the feel of an artificial lapse of memory, she hadn’t been drinking, hadn’t eaten anything, and had kept largely to herself, little enough chance for spells, potions or poisons. Then again, she didn’t feel any sort of ache that might explain away the loss of memory. 

 

“I don’t remember.” she said honestly. 

 

“Convenient, isn’t that? The only survivor, the only one who could tell us what happened, and you can’t remember.” she spat. “Lucky for you, you’re the only choice we have, or you’d have been marched in front of the village and beheaded.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You could ignore your orders and do it anyway. You have me at an interesting disadvantage, you  _ could _ kill me rather easily like this.” she said. 

 

“No. You _will_ make this right. I suspect it’s your doing anyway, it should be simple for you. You must be a demon of great power to cause this much trouble.” she guessed. 

 

Demon this, demon that. It was getting tiresome, and more than a little offensive. “I am  _ not _ a demon.” 

 

“Then what is it you claim to be?” she asked suspiciously. “You’re no Qunari.”

 

“I am a Tiefling. Perhaps before you accuse, you might do your research a little more thoroughly. Do they not teach history here?” she grunted. 

 

Cassandra’s lips thinned tightly like she really didn’t know, but she just didn’t want to own up to it. 

 

“Very well. If you’ll indulge me a moment, I’ll tell you. Long ago, there was a human empire, and as you probably know, you’re a greedy lot. The nobles desired more power and keeping it. The demons in the deepest void learned of those desires, and gave them dreams while they slept. The ritual was said to be gruesome, lasted a month, but would ensure their rule. Those that didn’t want to take part were killed off, as it needed the participation of every noble. They made pacts with the demons that rose from the void willingly. The nobles were promised they and their descendants would have power forever, but it was as much a curse as a blessing. They began to change, more monstrous like the demons themselves. So you see. It was generations ago, Ages even. I am a descendant by blood only, I can no more change how I look than you could. At my core, I _am_ human, as you are. The only difference is the wrapping.” 

 

“ _ Cassandra…” _ the woman repeated insistently. “We don’t have time for this. Let her go and bring her to the forward camp.” 

 

“Very well, Leliana.” she said. 

 

Leliana and the guards left quickly, and Cassandra jerked her roughly to her feet, her tail numbed from being trapped under her leg for who could say how long whipped around her waist, rubbing her wrists where the restraints were particularly unforgiving. 

 

“Try anything, and I will drag you to the Breach kicking and screaming.” she threatened. 

 

Shielding her eyes, she frowned. On every side were people, all angry, all calling for her head. A few even threw rocks at her. None of this was new, she was used to this sort of cold reception almost anywhere she went. Few places tolerated her presence without suspicion. 

 

“Creed.” she said finally. 

 

“What?” Cassandra snapped.

 

“My name is Creed. I chose it myself.” she said simply. 

 

Cassandra snorted quietly at that. She looked a demon, gold eyes with no pupils, medium long horns that curled back slightly at the tip, the tail, hip grazing hair the very color of blood. If there was any chance she might not be…

 

“What is it you claim to stand for?” she asked, continuing on the path outside the village. “If you truly aren’t a demon, I can only imagine what it is you believe.” 

 

“I am willing to accept that sometimes to serve the light, you have to walk in the shadows.” Creed said. “Perhaps I’d tell you more if I trusted you. If you trusted me. For now, it’s enough that if you expect me to save you, you know my name. I don’t expect you to use it.”

 

That was a pipe dream. This woman, these people, they would likely never warm up to her, and she wasn’t one for opening up to people who she couldn’t trust. Either way, the urgency with which people fled back towards the village, the wounded soldiers littering the paths? This looked bad. It was all moot unless she got to the source of what was happening. Looking up at the sky, she saw the massive, swirling hole, sucking debris up into it. It felt like magic, but not a kind she knew. 

 

“Is that this Breach you mentioned?” she asked. 

 

“It is. We are not excluding the possibility that  _ you _ caused it, but if left unchecked, it will swallow the world. There will be nothing left to save, nothing to protect. You are the only chance we have of closing it.” she said. 

 

Creed looked at the mark on her hand. It was the same sort of feeling, but on a smaller scale. It hadn’t been there before, she knew that much, but how she might be able to wield it in such a way as to close that? If they had more time, she might have had time to experiment a little with trying to make it do something, but it was clear this was a cataclysmic event that offered no time for anything but figuring it out on the fly. Glancing down, she finally realized her armor and weapons were nowhere to be found. Someone had dressed her down in something incredibly basic and ill suited to fighting, which, by the sounds up ahead, there would surely be.

 

“You’ve disadvantaged yourself, you know.” she said. 

 

“How?” she questioned. 

 

“This garb won’t protect from injury. You’ve taken my blades. All you’ve left me is a handful of spells.” she told her. 

 

“Good. I don’t trust you enough to give you more than that.” she said. 

 

“I don’t expect trust, but I haven’t once attacked you, and yet these bruises suggest I’m not the brute here. Whatever, I don’t need a weapon, but I warn you it takes far less control without them.” Creed said with a shrug.

 

“You...have a point. I’ll concede that much. You have shown remarkable restraint for a de...whatever you are.” she admitted.

 

Creed’s lips curved just a bit, tossing her head slightly. “If I’m not mistaken, _ those _ are demons. Quite a lot, actually.”

 

“Ugh.” she grunted. “Varric is going to  _ adore _ you.” 

 

“Not sure who that is, but I like him already.” Creed said. 

 

If this Varric got under her skin the way her reaction implied? Sure, they’d probably get on decently. 

 

“Your people...were they really human?” Cassandra asked, slogging through a group of demons trying to flank her. “Or is that a story you tell to keep yourself alive?” 

 

Raising her hands, she slung crackling orbs of fire at the demons that tried to flee Cassandra’s blade, picking them off before they had a chance to regroup. 

 

“I’ve seen desire demons before. Fought plenty. I don’t think I resemble them that much, and while I do boast quite an assortment of gifts, I like to believe I’m not as bad as all that.” she told her. “I think if I  _ we’re _ a demon, I’d be a little smarter. Change my appearance, not be so brazen as to keep one that arouses such suspicion. It’s in our history, passed down through the ages. We were once human, yes. However if instead of being saved, you’d like to test your blade on me, I won’t fight it. I bleed like you, I die like you. I hurt just like you.” 

 

“You’re an apostate, if nothing else. That still makes you dangerous.” Cassandra said decisively. 

 

“Of course I am. I’ve never been to a Circle, but you’ll meet very few mages who can do what I do. I’m a spellblade. I am the very best of magic and force all in one. My background gives me a peerless command of magic, and inadvertently, or perhaps not, many of my people are...what’s the word... _ Vriyipyr?  _ No...you won’t know that word, I’m sure...somniari, in Tevene, at least...what is the common word…” she trailed off thoughtfully. 

 

“Dreamer?” she asked.

 

“Yes, that.” Creed said, nodding a bit. 

 

“What is that language?” Cassandra questioned, felling the last demon before rushing up the snowy path. “I don’t know it.” 

 

“It is the Infernal language. Another gift of our ‘creators’. I’ve traveled often, I’ve picked up other languages, at least a little, but it gets hard to separate them sometimes.” she said. 

 

“We must be getting close, you can hear the fighting.” Cassandra warned. 

 

“We’ve  _ been _ fighting.” Creed reminded her. “More of your soldiers, I’d imagine.”

 

“Among others.” she told her. 

 

Conversation fell by the wayside, Cassandra halting to assess the situation. Creed on the other hand, rushed in, sliding to a stop in the slippery drifts of snow, sparks jolting all around her, some of the demons disintegrating on contact. Between the soldiers, the oddly dressed elven man and a dwarf with a curious crossbow, and even eventually, Cassandra, they managed to tear through the demons with ease. It seemed like there might be a moment to breathe, but the elf grabbed her marked hand, raising it towards a small, glowing tear hanging in the air, the uncomfortable feeling tingling through her nerves before it closed. 

 

Varric gestured to her shoulders with a soft hum. “Looks like the Seeker gave you her version of a friendly welcome too.” 

 

“Here I thought I was something special. You rough up everyone you meet? I’m hurt.” she said sarcastically. 

 

“Varric, why are you still here?” she grunted. “I told you you were free to go. With the Divine dead, there’s no longer a reason for you to stay.”

 

“And miss out on something like this? Wouldn’t dream of it.” he replied. “Coming with whether you want me to or not.” 

 

“What about you? Cassandra failed to mention you.” she asked. 

 

“My name is Solas.” he said, leaving it at that.

 

“He kept you alive while that mark was trying to kill you.” Varric explained. “He’s a bit too modest, doesn’t want to take the credit he’s due.” 

 

“A mage too, by the look of it.” Creed noted. “A pleasure.” 

 

He said nothing immediately, studying her quietly. Unlike most of those she’d seen so far, he didn’t seem to be wary of her, more curious than anything, and that was something of a different reaction than she was used to. 

 

“I’m not a demon, if you were concerned.” she said flatly. 

 

“No, I can tell you’re not.” Solas said. “Assuming we live through this, I’d like to ask some questions, if you’d allow me.” 

 

“I might have answers.” Creed shrugged. “If we don’t die.”

 

“Yes, well, if you’re done catching your breath, we should get to the forward camp before there isn’t one to get  _ to _ .” Cassandra interrupted. 

 

“We might have been there already had someone not seen fit to make sure I was as ill-equipped as possible.” she replied. 

 

“She tried to take Bianca, but I’d never let anyone else touch my baby.” Varric said, patting his crossbow. 

 

“I would have given her...ugh... _ it _ back.” Cassandra grunted defensively. 

 

She looked around, only to see Creed already going on ahead, Solas following shortly behind. Varric noticed and ambled off to follow, leaving the Seeker stunned for a few moments before she dashed off to join them. 


	2. Chapter 2

Creed had to ask herself if she was still dreaming, certain she had woken up, save for the elven woman in her room who dropped what she was carrying to prostrate herself and beg forgiveness of her for the intrusion. 

 

“No. Nope.” she mumbled to herself, turning her back to the woman, pulling the covers up and closing her eyes. “This doesn’t happen to me. This doesn’t happen to people like me.” 

 

“Beggin’ your pardon, but I was asked to see that you go to the Chantry when you’re on your feet, my lady.” she announced, scampering out  quickly. 

 

“Maker what’s going on with this place...First they want me dead, and now it’s ‘my lady’...” she muttered under her breath. “Maybe the servants are just stressed…” 

 

Creed forced herself out of bed, pinching herself to make sure she was really awake. It didn’t particularly hurt, but it was uncomfortable enough to make it plausible she wasn’t still asleep. Pausing to check out a far too obvious chest in her room, she found her armor, one long sword, engraved with roses, the hilt adorned with gold filigree in the shape of vines with thorns along the guard, a gift from a friend she had been lucky enough to meet, one who hadn’t cared so much for what she was so much as the kind of character she had. She was gone now, several years so, the blade the last remnants of her left. She stared at it in silence for a time, before sheathing it, finding her armor inside as well. Taking the time to get dressed properly first, she swept her hair back, mentally readying herself for whatever was truly waiting on the other side of the door. 

 

Honestly, it was the last thing she expected. Unlike at the Conclave, she remembered what happened at the temple. They’d fought demons, and somehow managed to at least stop the Breach from growing, not exactly what she was supposed to do, but for not knowing a thing about the strange glowing mark on her hand? Not bad. She supposed it meant she failed, and they’d be eager to ask for her head, but the line of villagers from the gates to the chantry were nothing if not bordering on reverent, grateful. The same people who glared, called names and threw things at her on the way, were now calling her the Herald of Andraste? What did that even mean. 

 

Keeping her head down, she quickened her steps, rushing towards the Chantry to tend to whatever business Cassandra had for her now. The whole day was absolutely bizarre in ways she wasn’t quite able to process let alone understand. This definitely felt like some sort of prelude to being thrown back in a cell at the very least. The shouting at the end of the hall gave her pause, she recognized the voice of Cassandra, the other was Roderick, if she wasn’t recalling it incorrectly. He hadn’t taken to her presence especially poorly, and that much was very unlikely to change now, if the things she was hearing were any indication. Heaving a reluctant sigh, she pushed open the door. Surprisingly, Cassandra, the one who initially seemed the most mistrustful of her had apparently had a change of opinion, and professed to not believing she caused the Breach at least. That was a start, Creed didn’t mind still being viewed as a demon, but that she might not be the worst person ever was a fine place to start.  

 

Keeping her silence rather than opting to interrupt, Leliana added in her thoughts, This whole situation was a bit overwhelming in honesty. She’d spent her time in far off places, places that had remained untouched by the Blight, far removed from the chaos of Kirkwall, this? Had she stayed away, she had a feeling this was one thing no one in Thedas could possibly outrun, she’d have died blissfully unaware of what the hole in the sky was. 

 

“The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.” she heard Cassandra say. 

 

That stunned her a little. So...rather than believing she was a demon, one who may or may not have destroyed the temple, thousands of people _ and  _ murdered the Divine, to being someone even she was willing to claim to be sent by the Maker? Creed was nothing if not devout in her faith, but without her memories, she couldn’t be certain if Andraste really helped her, if the Maker sent her or not, but she supposed she probably wouldn’t know regardless.

 

“Wait...you...think the Maker sent me?” she asked, unable to hide the surprise in her voice. 

 

“The Maker does as he wills, it is not for me to say.” Cassandra said. 

 

Perhaps she had misjudged her as well. Many claimed to believe firmly, but most would have scoffed at the notion. To believe so strongly that the Maker might send a ‘demon’ as a symbol? That was a novelty concept. 

 

“Even if that means a Tiefling is his chosen?” she asked. 

 

“Humans are not the only one's with an interest in the fate of the world.” she told her. 

 

True. The end of everything would come for everyone. Dwarves, Humans, Elves both Dalish and City, Qunari, Tiefling, No one would be spared from it…

 

“You have a point…” she conceded quietly. 

 

Roderick drew the focus, but Cassandra put an end to it, declaring that the Inquisition was reborn, and they would not only close the Breach, but deal with those who had a hand in the Divine’s death, and restore order in Thedas. That seemed an awfully extreme promise, almost impossible, really. Maybe closing the Breach was a possibility, with more understanding of the mark, it could be possible to finish what she started, that much she could believe. Without a clue to who they were looking for? Delivering on the second statement was at the very least, a gargantuan feat if not completely improbable. Restoring order was the real impossibility.

 

Things had been spiraling out of control for too long at this point. She may have been spared the experience, but naturally news had reached. King Cailan’s death, Loghain’s betrayal, the Ferelden Warden’s near complete extinction, all of that had reached, and across the sea, the invasion of the Qunari, Tevinter slavers running rampant, the murder of the Viscount, both the Circle and the Templars breaking into open battle in the middle of a burning city, which had sparked the start of a full out war between mages and Templars, circles breaking into utter chaos, and innocents dying needlessly. If the Divine had little hope of making it all go away, there wasn’t much, if any chance anyone else would be able to do a thing about it. Those who had the power and influence to control their own people weren’t willing to extend the effort, and now with this, it seemed everyone was simply adding more kindling to the fire. 

 

Rather than echo that thought, Roderick left, leaving her with the two, explaining what the writ was, and what it was meant to accomplish. Leliana was right, they had nothing. Less than nothing to manage these tasks with, and Cassandra hadn’t missed the mark when she said they had no choice. She said they needed her at their side...perhaps such a thing should have given her pause, as it would have any sane person.

 

“I don’t really know if the Maker sent me, but I want to help. I want to stay. Regardless of what people may see when they look at me, I won’t ignore the good I can do…” she said. 

 

Cassandra extended her hand in offering. Creed raised a brow at that, these people continued to surprise her, pleasantly so far at least. She shook her hand, trying to decide what this would mean for her, and for the future. Succeed or fail, it was difficult to imagine the way things would look, what the outcome would be either way. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to keep it as realistic to the lore of both as possible. I'm not settled on the ship just yet, I have several options in mind at the moment. Much of the information was taken either from the D&D lore on Tieflings or other sources. She is a dreamer, but at the same time, it made sense to me that if the demons the humans dealt with in the lore were giving them information through dreams that tieflings as a whole would have a higher occurrence of having them than usual. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments or con crit, I've gotten some positive feedback from this idea and I would love to know what people think. I will be using Infernal language, possibly bits of Tevene and French as a stand-in for Orlesian, anything not in English, I'll try to remember to translate :D
> 
> Chapter 1 Translations:   
> Kudd py zyml. Xe mijy lazmulq za wih - Kill me then. I have nothing to say


End file.
